Heroes & Thieves
by wildgypsyeyes
Summary: When a new boy takes bullied Bella Swan under his wing, maybe she'll find the strength to change her life. AH, CC.
1. Looking for a Sunset

--~*~--  
**Chapter One: Looking for a Sunset**

There's supposed to be an evening sunset, so I watch for some difference between the clouds. One spot was a little lighter than the rest, but I didn't see anything else. Just clouds and more clouds. Light pattering on my roof alerts me to the fact that rain has fallen.

There goes my little peace that I had for about five minutes. But what could I expect? Nothing. I shouldn't have expected anything, really. Typical of me.

I'm getting too depressed by the rain. Not unusual of me, but freakish by everyone else's standard. I have to shake off the sadness. And desperation.

I'm thinking too much into this. I have to concentrate on something else.

It's only six forty-five. Charlie should be home soon, from work. He doesn't mind that I call him Charlie. He's always told me to call him that, not being all that comfortable with the 'Dad' persona. But, since we don't really know each other well at all, I suppose its okay.

I'm getting too depressed again. I'm going to go make tacos for dinner.

I go downstairs. The lights are still off from when I came home from school earlier. My backpack was still where I left it. I have some homework that needs finishing, but it's not like my teachers care. I turn it in whenever I want, and I can still get away with a C.

Charlie wants me to try harder in school. He says that if he tried harder then he would have been able to go to college and not be stuck here as a police man.

But I know the real reason he didn't go to college: my mom.

I get out the meat from the fridge, trying to distract myself from my depressing thoughts. Depressing thoughts for a depressing life. Depress, depress, depress. That's an odd word. Deeee-_press. _

_I really am going to go insane here. _

I get out the lettuce and tomato and the cheese. I turn on the stove and put a pan on it. I put the meat in the microwave and hit defrost. I smile as I hear the crackle of the meat unfreezing. I start to shred the cheddar cheese, keeping my mind focused on that single action.

Shred, shred, shred.

Shred is an odd word too.

Word is an odd word. So is odd.

How odd.

The microwave dings. The meat is defrosted to my satisfaction and I put it on the pan. It make a pleasant _tss _noise.

I start to chop some of the tomatoes into little pieces. Charlie likes his tomatoes that way. I don't like tomatoes so I don't chop too many.

Chop, chop, chop.

I proceed to shred the lettuce. Shred, shred, shred.

I turn back to the sizzling meat on the stove. I lift it up with a spatula. It's turning a nice brown.

I hear the front door open as Charlie comes in. I hear him putting his gun away and taking his shoes off.

Fifteen minutes down. Another three hours to go until bed time.

And then another nine hours until school again.

Monotony, the perfect drug.

"Isabella?" He calls out.

"Kitchen." I reply.

I hear his lumbering footsteps. That's the only way I can describe the way he walks: lumbering.

"What's cooking?" He asks.

"Tacos."

"I love tacos."

"I know. Me too." I smile at him.

He comes over and kisses my head. His usual greeting.

"How was work today?" I ask politely, knowing he'll give me the same answer as yesterday.

"Same old, same old. How was school?" He goes over to the fridge and gets out a beer.

Budweiser. Light. Of course.

"Ditto."

"Learn anything?"

"Nope." I answer as I turn back to check the meat. Hmm, looking nice. I chop up the meat a little. Move it around some.

He chuckles. "That's good. I'm glad my tax dollars are going some place."

I smile. "Oh, they are. Trust me."

He leans against the fridge, watching me for a moment. "Want some help?" He asks.

I know he doesn't really want to help, so I say, "No. I'm good. Dinner will be ready in about half an hour."

"Sounds nice. I'm going to go watch some T.V."

"Cool," I say as I shred some more cheese.

He stands there for a second before lumbering back into the living room, where he sits down on the same squeaky spot on the same old couch that we've had for forever. Same old, same old.

I hear the television turn on. I mindlessly cook the meat for the next half hour. Mostly it consists of me staring at the floor.

When the meat is done cooking, I chop it all up into tiny pieces and put some taco stuff on it. I mix it around until it's perfect. I turn the stove top off.

"Food's ready." I say.

Charlie hears. He gets up, stretching. "Smells good, Isabella."

Nobody calls me Isabella but him anymore. He didn't get the message in the sixth grade when I changed it to Bella. But I was living with Mom then…

_Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts. _

"Thanks, Charlie."

He quickly gets out a tortilla and puts some of the meat, chopped up tomatoes, and lettuce on it.

"Where's the sour cream?"

"Sorry. I forgot." I turn and grab it out of the fridge and hand it to him.

He opens it. "Can you hand me a spoon?"

"Sure." I get out a spoon and hand it to him.

"Thanks."

"Yup."

I make my own taco – just tortilla, meat, and cheese. I like a lot of cheese on my taco.

Inside, I giggle a little at what could be considered a dirty joke.

Outside, my face remains still.

Charlie and I go sit down at the table, where it is facing the television. We eat in silence, except for when he occasionally asks me to pass him something. I do.

Same old, same old.

When I dinner is done, Charlie helps me with the dishes. He puts away the extra food, and I wash and rinse. He dries the dishes and puts them away. I clean off the table.

When we're done with that, it's eight thirty.

"I'm going to go upstairs." I tell him.

"Alright. I'll be down here if you need me." He sits back down on the couch and flips through the very limited amount of channels, searching for something good to watch. I get my backpack to take upstairs.

I hate television. I take the stairs up two at a time to my room.

So I'm back here again.

I spend the next hour doing geometry, English, and science homework. I even decide to do a little Spanish, though I don't really have to. I stop when it's nine-thirty. I stretch and go take my shower.

Nothing new there; I didn't spontaneously grow boobs like I had wished the night before in the shower.

How pathetic.

I sigh, finish rinsing my hair, step out and get a towel. I brush through my hair, wincing when it gets tangled. After a while, the steam from the mirror washes away and I can see myself.

With my hair wet, my skin looks even paler. Dark circles rim my eyes. Worry lines are etched in my forehead.

When had I become so dead looking?

--~*~--

My alarm clock buzzes, bringing me out of a light sleep. I slap the off button and get out of bed. I sit there for a few minutes, watching my feet hit the edge of the bed. I really don't want to go back to school today.

But I get up because I must. I get dressed in an old plain red t-shirt and some jeans. I put my shoulder-length hair back in its usual ponytail. I'm trying to grow it out again, from when I cut it off freshman year.

I pull my sneakers on and go downstairs. Charlie is already gone. I get out a cereal bar and eat it. I get my keys from the key rack and go outside to my truck.

I call her Bessie. Good ol' Bess.

"Hello, Bessie." I say as I climb in. "Hope you didn't get too cold last night."

I turn on the radio, but all I hear is static. I turn it off and pull out of the driveway.

Driving still makes me nervous, even though I got my license a while ago. I drive slowly, carefully. In about fifteen minutes, I'm at school. I brace myself for the coming day.

"Wish me luck, Bess."

I jump out of the car, shut the door behind me. I see them from a distance. They're waiting for me, like always.

"Freak," Lauren whispers as I pass. I ignore her.

Jessica trips me. I catch myself in time.

"Guess you're finally coordinated, klutz."

I don't even bother fighting back anymore. I just stare at her for a moment, shake my head, and walk inside.

"She thinks she's all that doesn't she?" Lauren calls loud enough for me to hear.

"Totally." They giggle.

My hands clench.

_Control, Bella. Don't let them get to you. _

The hallways are mostly empty. I go to my cubby, located far away from my first period class.

Sadly, we do not have lockers. If we did, I doubt I would get as much hate mail as I do.

There are three notes that weren't there yesterday. I don't bother reading them, like I did last year. They made me cry, and everyone loved to see my reaction.

But I now I can control myself. I have perfected it.

I throw them in the trash can nearby. I get my English journal out and some other things. I know also know better than to leave my jacket behind. Something else I learned last year.

I don't really understand why everyone hates me.

--~*~--

I have had two spitballs thrown at me so far. But it's lunch time. Far better than last year, where I had spitballs thrown at me every period. Now, mostly, I'm ignored. Except from a select few.

Do they know how mean they are? Why do they do that?

_Don't ask questions. Remember. Control. _

Instead of going to the cafeteria, I go to the library. I sit near the back, away from the doors and the librarian desk hub. I pull out a book to read for the next half hour. It's filled with knights and princesses. Dragons and sword-fighting. Charming princes. Evil witches.

It's sort of like here. I can cast everyone perfectly.

Mike Newton would be Prince Charming. Well, my prince charming anyway. Lauren would be the dragon. Jessica, the hag. Victoria would be…well, I'm not sure which character she would be. She could fit all the evil roles.

I suppose I would be the princess, though that sounds slightly snobby of me.

But I could relate with the princess.

Nobody really gives thought to the princess. She's just the stick figure so that everyone else can get their kicks at playing hero. Or villain. She's tugged in one direction and the other by all the other characters. Never standing a chance…

I sniff. I realize I have been crying. I furiously wipe my tears away. Why should I be crying? It's just a dumb fairy tale. I stuff back into my back pack.

I stare at the table until the bell rings.

I get my backpack, stand up, and go to my next class.

I get tripped once in the hallway. But I just stand up again and keep moving until I get to the classroom. I sit down in the front row.

When that class ends, I go to the last period of the day, and my least favorite: gym.

All my tormentors are there in one place. My personal hell on Earth.

I change my clothes in the bathroom stall. I still get some remarks about how much of a waif I am and how I could be dead. Too skinny. No boy will ever want me.

I am able to ignore them.

Gym passes. The class went better then previous gym classes I had.

The day ends. I change my clothes and go to old Bessie.

And when I go home, I look for the sunset.

* * *

**Please review!  
For my other readers, WTWAG is not being abandoned. :) **


	2. A Noise That Brings Trouble

**WARNING: **This chapter contains adult themes.

--~*~--  
**Chapter Two: A Noise Which Brings Trouble**

When I get to school the next day, there are rumors. Not about me, but about something else. A new kid. The tally comes to a vote: most likely a boy. Interesting. I wonder if he'll be as hated as I was when I first got here. Possibly not.

I take my normal seat in the library at lunch time. This time, I bring a notebook with me. I have been mulling this idea in my head all morning. I flip open to a new page. The blank lines intimidated me. Well, I didn't _have _to send it to him.

_Dear New Boy, _

_I hope your first day at Forks High is going well. I wonder what you think about your fellow peers. I know what I first thought when I moved here: fake. And I was proven right. But I don't want to scare you with all the horrid details. I'm sure you'll find out about it soon enough. In any case, you should be proud you made it thus far: you came through the doors. You breathed in the stench of this school. I hope you make it. _

_Perhaps I should stop now. Maybe I'm scaring you. I'm probably too cynical for your own good. _

_Signed sincerely,  
__Old New Girl_

I make a face at that paper. Maybe I _would _scare him. Maybe it wasn't even a him. Maybe the new kid was a girl.

I never said I was going to do it.

_But it'll spice things up a bit. _

For who? Me or him?

_You, of course. Him possibly as well. _

I'll think about it.

_And while you're "thinking" about it, be sure to tell Jessica hi. And maybe throw in a free hug as well. _

It kind of freaks me out that I'm my only friend.

--~*~--

When I get home from school, a message is waiting on the machine.

"_Isabella," _Charlie's voice starts. _"I don't think I'm going to be home for dinner. Order some pizza or something. Take some money from the swear jar. See you later." _

I sigh. He's probably caught up in a poker game.

My own father doesn't even want my company. How pathetic.

I get my backpack and start on my homework. After I while I stop. It's getting darker out. I turn on the light switch, and my eyes blink, getting used to the sudden brightness. My stomach starts to grumble. Maybe I will order a pizza.

I pick up the phone and dial. There's only one pizza place in Forks and I've dialed it enough to have memorized it.

"_Forks Pizza Place. What would you like to order?" _

"A small cheese pizza please. With cheese in the crust."

"_Thick or thin crust?" _

"Thick, please."

"_That'll be four fifty. Will you be picking it up or is it delivery?" _

"Delivery, please."

"_Will you be paying with a credit card or cash?" _

"Cash."

"_Alright. May we please have your address?" _

"15 Rosewood Boulevard."

"_Thank you. Your order will be there in about thirty minutes." _

Before I can reply, the guy on the phone hangs up. I frown at the phone and hang up as well. There's nothing like talking to empty air. I stand there at the counter for a little while. I watch the phone.

Maybe…maybe I can call her.

I shoot down the idea. She doesn't want to talk to me. She doesn't want me. She doesn't even come to visit.

_Control, Bella. _

I'm not even crying.

_You're about too. Be strong. _

It's hard to be strong.

_Nobody would be strong if it wasn't hard. _

You're right.

_I know. I'm the voice of reason. I'm always right. _

I sigh at the phone. At myself. At what my world is coming too.

I have to talk to myself so I won't be alone.

--~*~--

The pizza does come in thirty minutes. Talk about good service. I wave good-bye at the person as he drives away. He doesn't wave back. Typical.

I go back inside and shut the door behind me. I go to the table and move my stuff off of it. I open the box. It smells really good. I go into the kitchen and turn the radio on to the classical station. Bright, happy music comes out.

The pizza box is waiting for me still. I eat four out of the six pieces. I surprise myself. I must've been really hungry. I throw the box away and save the two pieces of pizza for leftovers. Maybe Charlie will eat it.

I start up on my homework again. I finish it. My butt cheeks hurt. I stand up, stretch, grab my notebook from earlier and head over to my spot on the couch.

_Dear New Boy, _

_So I wrote you a message earlier at school. I am currently writing another one, wondering if I scared you off. I wouldn't know, considering I haven't even sent it too you yet. But still. _

_I just ate pizza. It was nice. _

_Do you know what I hate? I hate small talk. Small talk is for small people. Why can't people just talk about what they really thing about things, instead of just random crap like how the weather is? People talk small talk about the weather here, and I wonder why. It's always the same: cloudy and rainy. What else is there? _

_Well, I guess you'll get used to it soon enough. _

_Do you ever talk to yourself, New Boy? I do. Maybe that creeps you out. But I think everyone talks to themselves to some degree. _

_Do you miss your friends? I wonder what it would be like to have friends to miss. _

_Again, maybe I'm scaring you. Again, maybe I'm too cynical for your own good. _

_Signed sincerely, _

_Old New Girl_

I feel a bit better with myself after I'm done. I shut the notebook and put it back in my backpack. I gather up all my homework and put that away as well. I glance at the clock. Eight-thirty. A little early for a shower, but I have nothing else to do.

As I walk upstairs, I take down my ponytail. My head aches in relief. It doesn't like my hair up for too long. I shake it out and start taking my clothes off before I even hit the bathroom. There's just something liberating about walking around naked in your own house with no one else there.

I take my shower. I wonder what my hair would be like if I used Charlie's shampoo. He uses Axe. I squeeze the bottle. The shampoo is orange. I shrug and wash it through my hair. I pick up the bottle again.

_Girl approved hair. _

I snort. Well, now I have girl approved hair. I rinse the shampoo out and wash myself with my own soap. I finish and dry myself thoroughly. With the water now off, it's quiet. I listen downstairs for any of Charlie's movements. Nothing.

I drop my towel on the floor. I'm completely naked, and I'm walking around. Air hits spots that are normally covered. It's odd; I can feel my hair from down _there _as I walk. Even more odd? I wish I could walk around like this all the time.

Maybe I could become a nudist. In California. I heard it's acceptable there. Especially at beaches.

I go into my room, still completely nude. The windows are not covered by my curtains; I quickly fix that problem. For a while I just lay on my bed, feeling the air from the conditioner on myself.

When I hear the car door slam outside is when I decide to get up and put my pajamas on. I flip off the light switch and sink down underneath my covers. It feels weird with clothes on. I became used to having nothing on.

I suppose this says something about me. But who's listening?

--~*~--

It's dark when I open my eyes. The clock on my bedside table says it's four o'clock a.m. I still have another two and a half hours before I'm supposed to wake up. But I'm not tired anymore. That's the thing about me: when I wake up, I can't get back to sleep.

It annoys the heck out of everyone I've ever had a sleepover with. Which, admittedly, wasn't all that many. But still. The point is made.

I'm not sure what woke me up. I listen for a moment. I hear some…wheezing. And then a thump-thump-thump.

Worried, I listen harder.

"_Please. Please." _

Oh my word. I get up out of bed and go over to my father's bedroom door.

"_Come on, baby." _Thump-thump-thump. Squeak-squeak-squeak. I listen in horror. I can't move, though I desperately want to. My father is…

"_Harder, Charlie. Harder!" _

"_Not so loud. But I will be glad to oblige." _

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…

_Move, Bella, move!_

My father is having sex. With a woman. In his bedroom. At four o'clock in the morning.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

"_Come for me, Sue. Come for me."_

Holy crap.

That's when I run back to my bedroom.

I'm breathing heavily. No way. No freaking way.

Sue. _Sue? _

_Sue Clearwater. Who else? _

But she's married.

_You've seen them flirting. _

But she's MARRIED.

_So your father's having an affair with a married woman. What's the big deal? _

Okay, you are so not my voice of reason any more. Do you not get that my father…is…is…

_You just wanted Charlie and _her _to get back together. _That's _what you're upset about. _

No…that's not it at ALL.

_And now that he's found someone else…_

He hasn't "found" someone. He's gotten laid with someone. Who happens to be married.

_You know that's not true –_

Why am I arguing with myself?

Oh, right. Because I'm an idiot.

--~*~--

I stay awake for the next hour, waiting for something to change. They sure do have some stamina, I can give them that.

I can hear their voices in the hallway then.

"I have to go now." She whispers.

Charlie grumbles something back. I can't make it out, but she laughs.

"No, I really have to go now."

I can hear my dad sigh from here.

"We'll meet up later. Okay?" She says.

I can hear them kissing and then a low groan.

"Later." Charlie says.

I can hear them kiss again.

Then I hear footsteps go down the stairs. I hear the door open and then a car start. I hear the car leave. When the car's rumbling is out of earshot, I hear Charlie's footsteps come back up the stairs.

I hear the shower start.

Should I tell him that I know? Should I tell him what I think of what he is now?

No. I shouldn't. It would create a scandal. If someone tells a secret, it somehow gets around.

There are no secrets in Forks.

I should know.

* * *

**-coughs- So...yeah. I've made my Charlie a little...different. **

**Review! :) **


	3. The Meeting of Prince Chaumont

--~*~--  
**Chapter Three: The Meeting of Prince Chaumont **

When my alarm sounds, I immediately shut it off. After Charlie gets in the shower, I decide to get dressed. I'm wearing black today. Black shirt, black pullover. Jeans. Converse. I'm leaving my hair down today.

I look at myself in the mirror when I go to the bathroom. The circles under my eyes look like bruises. My eyes themselves are bloodshot. Charlie's downstairs when I come down. Normally, I would've been surprised. Now…now I know.

He smiles at me as if nothing's different. He smiles at me as if he didn't do something morally wrong.

I still give him a small smile back. But when he's turned around, I flip him the bird. I go into the kitchen and pour myself some cereal. Fruit loops. I go to the fridge and pour milk for my cereal.

I don't eat it. I feel if I do, I'll puke.

"You gonna eat that, Isabella?"

I hate the way he calls me that. I hate the way he can't even use the English language right.

"No. You can have it. I have to get to school anyway."

"Alright. I'll be home for dinner."

I smirk at him, holding back all the names I want to call him. Instead, I just grab my backpack from my chair and go out to Bessie.

"Hi, Bessie." I say to her. I get inside and close the door. "Do you know how much I want to scream right now?" I whisper.

I turn her on. She doesn't answer except for a loud rumble.

"Guess not." I tell her. I put the car in drive and go to school. When I get there, I see by my clock that I'm fifteen minutes earlier than I usually am. I decide to park near the entrance of the school and sit there for a few minutes.

I'm staring at the clock, watching it change to one minute further in time, when I see a flash of silver in my rear view mirror. Curious, I look out my window. Another car has pulled up beside me, an unfamiliar one. I can't see inside the windows; they're tinted.

I begin wonder if it's a teacher's car, when he walks out.

My jaw drops open.

He's the new kid.

He _looks _new. He has nice clothes; his shirt advertises a band I don't know, but it hints at designer origins. He has a black-and-white plaid jacket on. Faded blue jeans.

His skin is pale, like mine. He takes a deep breath in, almost as if he's preparing himself for the day. Like I usually do. He's got gorgeous red hair. Red hair that's totally different from red hair. In fact, it's not even really red. It's brown and has blonde streaks _and _it has red tints in it.

I'm biting my lip, something I haven't done in years.

He's _beautiful. _Not hot. Not cute. Not handsome. _Beautiful. _He could really be a prince. He would be a better prince than Mike Newton.

He shuts the door behind him, jarring the silence. For a moment, as he walks around his car, he glances right at me.

But then he looks away. Like I wasn't even there.

And to those green eyes…maybe I wasn't.

--~*~--

As I enter first period, the gossip I hear is outrageous. I hear whispers of _supermodel, plastic surgery, doctor, new kid, senior, eighteen, he got a girl pregnant, he's really a girl, someone saw him smoking a cigarette, _and last but not least _his name is Chaumont._

All them were equally laughable, but the last one was practically hysterical. I had to stop myself from laughing when I heard that one. Chaumont? Really?

I dig out my notebook from my backpack.

_Dear Prince Chaumont,_

_I saw you when you came to school. Maybe you will need my letters. However, at the present time, I think that I'll scare you. Especially with that pretty face of yours. That face of yours is going to get you in trouble around here. _

_Have you heard any of the rumors yet? Did you hear about that one you getting a girl pregnant? You've practically been here for five minutes and already you've got the rumor wheel turning. _

_You looked at me, you know. Right at me. You didn't even acknowledge that I was right there. But that's understandable, I suppose. You're new. You're nervous. Plus, I'm not all that noticeable. _

_I hope your first period is doing okay. I hope you don't have the hag, the dragon, or the witch that can take them all down in there with you. _

_As always, I'm too cynical. Maybe they'll be nice to you. But remember – they're fake. _

_Signed sincerely,  
__The Cynical Swan Princess_

--~*~--

I don't see him again between classes. Not that he will talk to me anyway…but I still didn't see him. The Hag Trio trip me when I come into math class. They don't get in trouble for it. I'm just glad the Prince wasn't around. Not that he would've noticed it anyways.

When lunch comes around, I debate on going to the cafeteria with myself for a while. But I decide the chance at seeing him again isn't worth the stuff I will face if I _do _go in there. So I take my normal route to the library.

As I round the corner, I certainly don't expect to see Prince Chaumont at my table. In my seat. But I do. I stop dead and stare at him. It kind of feels like seeing a celebrity. I take in a deep breath of air and go back around the book shelf.

I can see him between the books, barely.

_Why don't you go talk to him? _

Because I don't want to make an idiot of myself.

_Well, you should. It might be your only chance. _

So? He's going to hear what happened. If he did happen to like me at that current moment in time, he so wouldn't when they informed him about it. He'd be committing social suicide.

_I don't know why I even bother talking to you anymore. _

Well, it's because you're me. And I'm you.

_Whatever. _

I hear a loud cough to my left, obviously meant to get my attention.

Self, is that what – or who – I think it is?

_Yup. I certainly think so. _

I swallow nervously. I turn to face the cougher, blushing furiously.

But it isn't him. It's my worst nightmare.

The Hag Trio.

"What's up, _stalker?_" Victoria asks loudly. Probably loud enough for the prince to hear.

I don't say anything.

"I was talking to you stalker." She laughs. The other two joined in.

"So, stalker, what brings you here?" Lauren asks. "Wait, are we spying between the bookshelves?"

"How naughty." Jessica _tsk_s.

I feel myself grow hotter, but I still don't say anything.

"Well, we all know how naughty you are, don't we, stalker?" Victoria laughs.

Her laugh is cut off abruptly from a throat clearing behind me. Victoria's face blanches. I slowly turn around.

Prince Chaumont is standing behind me. His gaze is cool, his face intense. Victoria stops laughing immediately.

She's flustered, an odd thing to see.

"If you girls don't mind, I was trying to find some peace and quiet, so if you could take the catfight elsewhere it would be much appreciated." He raises his eyebrows pointedly at them, and then he looks at me.

It is for a quick second, but then his eyes flick away and he stalks back to my table.

There is silence.

"Well, I guess we'll be saying good-bye to the stalker." Victoria whispers.

Lauren and Jessica smile. They lean forward and tug my hair. I hiss, the first sound I make during the whole thing. They laugh and then walk away.

I let out a breath I don't know I've been holding. They don't come back.

Prince Chaumont really is my hero.

--~*~--

_Dear Prince Chaumont, _

_I really don't care if your name is Chaumont or not. I just want to thank you for saving me from the hags earlier. It was real sweet of you. The way you took control like that…well, let's just say I think you can hold your own at this school. _

_You looked at me again. But, again, you didn't acknowledge me. You didn't really see me at all. But that's okay I guess. I'm used to it. I hope you had a good lunch, apart from the disturbance the Hag Trio caused. _

_I think that you've had a good day. I hope you haven't heard any of the rumors yet, at least until next week. _

_I wonder what your real name is. _

_But I suppose I'll find out soon enough. After all, this school only has about 350 kids. _

_Signed sincerely,  
__The Cynical Swan Princess_

--~*~--

Prince Chaumont isn't in any of my classes. I'm sure if this means if he isn't in my grade… or if he just isn't in any of my classes. After gym – and after I get tripped multiple times – I went to my truck.

His car isn't there. I guess he is faster than me. I feel a bit disappointed that I couldn't see him drive off. But I climb into Ol' Bess and drive home.

--~*~--

I do my homework, of course. Then I make myself a taco from the left over meat. I decide that I want to read for a while. I pick the book that I didn't finish yesterday from my backpack.

I go up to my room to read. I don't want to be downstairs when Charlie gets home.

I recline in my bed. After a couple of minutes, I decide to take my clothes off and just lie there in my panties and bra on to read. The cool air against my skin feels…delicious. So different from when I don't wear clothes.

I decide I must do this more often.

I am almost finished reading the book when Charlie comes home.

"Isabella?" He calls out.

Who else…besides your fuck buddy?

"I'm in my room!" I call back.

I hear his footsteps on the stairs. I quickly go over to my closet and put on an old bathrobe that I never use.

"Can I come in?" Charlie knocks.

"Sure." I say, though I really don't want him in here.

At the sight of him, I have to stop myself from slapping him across the face. He looks happy. How can he be happy when he's probably going to tear a whole family apart?

"So, I just got my paycheck today." He says.

"Okay."

"And I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner? We haven't done that in a while." He smiles at me.

"I don't know…" I say uneasily.

"Look, I know sixteen year olds don't like going out with their parents in public, but I would really appreciate it. I want to thank you for all the stuff you've been doing lately." He smiles at me again.

Charlie, don't you dare make me feel guilty for hating you.

"I…" I look at his face. So hopeful. "I guess so. Let me go change."

"See you down in a few, Bells." He turns and closes the door behind him.

My mouth falls down in shock. He called me Bells? He must be in a really good mood then.

Well, if the whore from this morning wasn't a –

_Don't talk like that. Just get dressed and get it over with. _

I nod to myself and then head over to my dresser. I don't want to put on my old clothes from today because they're already on the floor, which means I consider them dirty. I open my pants drawer. Hmm. I have to do some laundry soon. All I have is a knee-length tan skirt. I sigh.

I hate skirts.

But I put it on anyway, because I have a compulsion about not wearing clothes that have been on the floor. I dig through my tops drawer. Nothing that would look good with it except for an old, blue shirt of mine from freshman year. There is flower embroidery around the collar.

I shrug. It's not like anyone cares what I wear anyways.

I put on some old Mary Jane shoes and brush my hair quickly.

I go downstairs to where Charlie is waiting.

"You didn't have to get all dressed up."

"I know. It was all I had left in my dresser."

"Oh."

And we go outside.

--~*~--

I hate riding in the cruiser, but Charlie insisted. He says he doesn't like the fact that the old clunker of mine can't go faster than fifty. Well, he was the one that bought it in the first place.

We get to the restaurant in about ten minutes. There are a few people there, but not many. I look around for any hags in the area. There are none, thank goodness.

A waitress, who introduces herself as Kaye, directs us over to a booth near the back. She hands us two menus and leaves us alone so we can decide what to eat.

"What are you going to get, Isabella?"

"Chicken nuggets."

"That's what you always get at a restaurant. Why don't you get…hmmm…fettuccini alfredo?"

I shrug. "Whatever."

He gives me a look. "I'll get a steak."

I shrug again and say, "Whatever."

Kaye comes then and asks what we want to drink. I say coke. Charlie says Rainer beer. We tell her what we want to order. She goes away and then comes back a few minutes later with our drinks.

"So how was school today?"

Small talk.

"Fine. We got a new student."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Interesting. Did you talk?"

"To him? No."

Silence.

"I hope our food gets here soon." He says.

I nod.

Silence. Charlie starts ripping apart his napkin.

I start composing a letter in my head.

_Dear Prince Chaumont,_

_Have you ever had dinner with your dad? Just the two of you alone together? Is it awkward? Is it—?_

"Hey! Carlisle! Fancy seeing you here." Charlie interrupts my letter writing with a cheerful call to a man who just came in.

He walks over to our table. "Hello, Charlie." He looks over at me. "And am I to assume this is the lovely Isabella you've told me so much about?"

"Yes. Yes, indeed." He looks proudly at me. I wave shyly at Carlisle. He smiles. "Isabella, this is Carlisle Cullen. He and his family just moved here." The door opens.

"That's them over there." Carlisle points to the two who just entered.

Prince Chaumont.

Oh, crap.

* * *

**As always, tell me what you think! :) **


	4. Ignorance that Leaves the World Cynical

--~*~--  
**Chapter Four: Ignorance that Leaves the World Cynical**

"Carlisle is the new doctor who came in from Chicago last week." Charlie explains.

I nod weakly, my eyes on the figure that is heading ever closer to us. Will he say hi to me? I know what his voice sounds like from his complaint earlier at the library. I wonder what it will sound like when it isn't angry.

"Yes, just from Chicago. My wife wanted to move to a small town so…" Carlisle trails off as his family comes toward us. Couple more steps…and here he is.

"Let me introduce you to my family." Carlisle says. I can't really lift my eyes from the table. "This is my wife, Esme." Esme holds out her hand for me to take. "Esme, this is Isabella Swan. And this is Chief Charlie Swan." I shake Esme's hand quickly. She holds out her hand for Charlie to take. He gives a quick handshake as well.

I hope he doesn't go after this woman next.

_Oh, stop it Bella. Look up. Look up. _

"And this is my son, Edward."

_Edward? _I think it over for a suits him.

I finally look up. His eyes are not on me at all. They are looking at the other patrons, bored with this conversation. My heart falls, but I shouldn't be so surprised.

"So what brings you here, Carlisle?" Charlie asks politely.

"Oh, we haven't got everything set up yet, so we decided to go out for dinner. You?"

"Just wanted to say thank you to Isabella for taking care of me in my old age. That's all." He smiles at me.

"How nice." Esme says.

Edward doesn't say anything.

Kaye, our waitress, comes up. "Do you need help finding a table?"

"I guess we'll see you later, Charlie." Carlisle says as Kaye leads them away.

"Have a good one." Charlie replies.

"You too."

And then they are gone.

I take a sip of my soda before saying, "So how do you know them?"

"Who? The Cullens?"

Duh. Like they weren't just there.

"Yes, them."

"Oh, well I saw Carlisle at the store the other day and I thought I would say hi. They're newcomers, so I figured I'd give 'em a proper greeting." Charlie takes a sip of his beer and sets it down on the table again. "Why do you ask?"

I shrug. "Just wondering."

"Okay then."

We pass fifteen more minutes in silence before the waitress comes back with our food.

"Enjoy!" She says cheerfully. I nod at her, unroll my napkin and start eating. Charlie does the same. I wrap the noodles around my fork. Charlie cuts into his steak.

We eat. We don't talk.

And then the dinner is over. Charlie waves good-bye to Carlisle. Edward is facing the opposite direction from us so he doesn't see. Carlisle waves good-bye as well. I wait by the door. Charlie pays for the dinner. I wait by the door.

We leave.

--~*~--

_Dear Edward Cullen, _

_I wonder how you can just completely ignore someone like you do me. You didn't even notice me. Ah, well, I suppose if I were you, I would as well. I wonder if you've heard the rumors about _me _yet, and that's why you won't look at me. _

_I guess it's for the best. _

_Signed sincerely, _

_The Ever Cynical Swan Princess_

I close my notebook and put it on the bedside table. I need a new notebook for this thing. This notebook is almost finished up. I'll go to the store tomorrow.

I turn off the lights and go to bed.

--~*~--

I wake up in the dark again. This time it's not because I heard my father doing _that_, but because I had a nightmare.

The Hag Trio had been pulling at my hair, my clothes. They were clawing me to death with their talons. Edward was in the room, but he didn't even notice my cries for help. And so I fell into darkness, watching the hags' faces light up with glee.

I feel the tears on my face before I can try and stop them.

My life is hell.

I get up out of my bed and go downstairs to the kitchen. I get out some cocoa mix from the cupboard and make some hot chocolate. I see the time on the microwave: five o'clock. Charlie should be getting up soon.

There are a few marshmellows left in the bag and I put all of them in. I take a sip; it burns my tongue and throat, but it tastes delicious. I go back upstairs, not cleaning anything up. Maybe Charlie can do something for once.

I blow on the hot chocolate for about three minutes before I take another sip. I swallow it down quickly. Absolutely yummy. I take another gulp; it burns a little, but I eat a marshmellow to cool it down. I lean back against my headboard and watch the clock tick to five thirty.

I hear Charlie get up and start moving around and getting ready. Then I hear him go downstairs and start moving things around. I hear something clang. Then it goes quiet for a moment and then I hear his footsteps and then he leaves.

About five minutes after he leaves, my alarm rings. I snap it off and go downstairs.

My mess is still there.

--~*~--

When I get to school, I start looking for the silver car that I saw yesterday, though I tell myself not to. I don't see it, and I slump over. The morning is probably my only chance to see Edward Cullen. I get out of the car anyway and go inside.

Thankfully the Hag Trio is nowhere inside. I breathe a little easier; my nightmare has me feeling a bit paranoid today. I walk quickly to my cubby and get some of my stuff. Today there is only one note, and it is folded into a triangle with the words _SKANK _written on it.

I sigh and throw it away. You would think after a year that people would stop, but they don't. It's just typical of my life.

I head to first period English. Mr. Masen nods at me in greeting. I nod back at him. I go sit in my normal seat near the front. I hear the clock ticking as I wait for the other students to come in.

Slowly, they trickle in, talking, laughing, and smiling. I secretly wish, deep inside myself, that I could have that, if for just a little while.

I take a deep breath in and get ready for the day.

--~*~--

It is just before Spanish class – my last class before lunch – when I see Prince Chaumont. Edward. Whatever he's called, I see him.

He's walking down the hall with two of the hags practically leeched to his body. Behind them, there are a couple more people who are trying to listen in on the conversation. I remember how that was for me, when I first came here. How everyone was hanging on my every word, how I thought that these people are crazy to want to listen to what I have to say. But I sort of relished it. I hadn't been nearly this popular when I had lived in Arizona.

But then _it_ happened.

I blanch and turn into my classroom so I won't have to see anymore.

--~*~--

It always surprises me how things turn out. When I go to the library, he's not there at my table. I look around, hoping that he might suddenly turn up. After five minutes and he doesn't show, I give up looking around and sit down.

I pull out my notebook.

_Dear Edward Cullen, _

_I wonder where you are. Maybe you're with the Hag Trio. I sincerely hope not. You don't know how quickly they can turn their backs on you. I should know after what happened last year. _

_But I'm not ready to write that down yet. Writing it down would be like admitting defeat, so I won't share. Maybe when you talk to me – which will be never, considering that you're older than me and I'm a social pariah – is when I'll write it down and share with you. _

_Of course, you'll never read this. So why bother?_

_Maybe I'll write it down someday, just for myself. _

_  
As always –_

_Signed sincerely, _

_The Ever Cynical Swan Princess_

I cap my pen and put it back in my backpack, as well as my notebook. I sigh and lean my head against my hands.

I wish I had someone to talk too. Someone, anyone.

_Someone like Edward Cullen maybe? _

Okay, I really don't want to talk to you right now.

_But I'm _you.

I'd rather talk to someone who's not myself.

_Geesh, don't have to be so harsh. _

What do you mean?

_I mean you don't have to use that tone. _

What tone? I'm not using any tone.

_Don't get smart with me, missy…_

Ok, I have officially gone insane.

--~*~--

End of the school day, and I am starting to get in my truck when I see him again.

He's scowling, his eyes fierce. His face is red.

I catch my breath. Why is he so angry?

He doesn't notice me staring. Instead, he climbs into his car and slams the door. He revs the engine, bringing stares over his way. His car screeches as he pulls out and leaves. I stare as his car flies by me and turns out the parking lot.

My breath leaves me in a huff.

All the way home I wonder what could have set him off like that.

* * *

**As always, tell me what you think in a review! :) **


	5. That's Going to Bruise

--~*~--  
**Chapter Five: That's Going to Bruise **

I lay in my bed, my finger twirling around my belly button. My mind replays the afternoon. How strange. What could've made him so mad?

I have a guess: The Hags.

Well, they _were _practically stalking him. What a twist.

A thought has just occurred to me: maybe I'm just as bad as the Hags with my interest in him. The thought makes me nauseous. I am, after all, writing him letters and hoping he'll notice me. Is that not bad, if not worse?

I stop with my belly button twirling.

I stand up and go over to my old computer. Dumb old thing crashes every once in a while, so I hardly use it. I press the on button and wait impatiently for it to start up. My foot taps in a random rhythm. Eventually it turns on. I wait for all the icons and stuff to load, which takes about ten minutes.

Finally I press the internet icon.

After _that _loads, Google shows up. My homepage. I sigh.

What should I look up?

Before I know it, I type in the name _Edward Cullen. _I press enter. It takes about a minute to load. I scan through the first page. Nothing interesting. Nothing that stands out.

_Did you seriously just Google Edward Cullen? _

I huff. I press the exit button on the internet page.

I stare at the screen for a second, wondering what to do next.

Inspiration: Computerize my letters.

I smile and get out my notebook. Once I have it out, I open it to the first letter. I click the Word program and I type it out and then all the others.

I write a new note:

_Dear Edward Cullen, _

_I have gone technologically savvy. Interesting, eh? I suppose not. I think you have your own high speed laptop. With fast internet access. Do you know I have to wait fifteen freaking minutes just for my computer to turn on? Really. I counted. _

_I don't want to turn out like The Hag Trio. What I mean is that I don't want to become so interested in you that I follow you around, and become attached to you like one of those baby monkeys to their mother. (Like you see on the Discovery Channel?) And so what if you're the handsome new kid? It doesn't matter. Maybe you're just like all the rest of them. _

_But how should I know? I've never talked to you. Maybe I'll never talk to you, even though in such a small school it is entirely possible. Everyone knows everyone else. _

_But this is only your second day of school. Maybe I should give some more time for you (and me) before I say anything definite. _

_As always –_

_Signed sincerely,  
The Ever Cynical Swan Princess_

--~*~--

I don't make dinner. We just have leftovers. I can hardly stand to be in the same room with him. After I'm finished, I hurry up to my bedroom and go to bed.

--~*~--

Mr. Masen announces that we will now be studying Romeo and Juliet. I sigh along with everyone else. Romeo and Juliet makes me feel so depressed. I lean my head into my hands and sigh. The girl sitting next to me – she wasn't there willingly as Mr. Masen assigned seats – gives me an annoyed look and scoots as far away from me as she can in her seat.

I look down at my desk despondently and start to doodle on my paper, trying to block out all of the voices reading the first scene of R and J.

--~*~--

I am heading to third period, my books clutched close to my person so that nobody can push them on to the floor. I've had enough people do that to me for a lifetime. I spot the Hags up ahead, leaning against the walls. I hesitate, taking a deep breath before I continue walking.

I stare straight ahead as I hear their laughs stop. I know they are watching me, waiting for me to slip up.

I hear Victoria's footsteps come closer, quickly. I try and walk faster without being obvious.

Why does it seem like the hallways are suddenly empty?

"_SSSSkank." _She hisses before she trips me.

My books fly across the hallway. My chin scrapes the floor; I feel the skin break. I wince, knowing better than to make any noise. I hear them laugh, and then scramble as they head to their classrooms when the late bell rings.

I sigh, and hold my sleeve to my chin as I pick up my books. My backpack slides uncomfortably down on my head.

I hear echoing footsteps, walking fast. I scoot over to the side so that they can get by. I know nobody will help me.

I don't look up as I hear them get closer.

But then suddenly feet are pressed into my stomach and then the person falls over.

"Shit!" I hear the person exclaim and then a groan. The voice sounds familiar.

I'm holding my other hand to my side as I turn to face whoever that was. I know that is going to bruise.

I suck in a breath when I see the red hair.

_Edward Cullen. _

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" I say immediately when I realize it's him.

He gets on his knees and starts getting his stuff. I'm not sure if he didn't me say anything when he suddenly turns around and exclaims, "What the hell are you doing in the middle of the hallway?"

His green eyes are blazing into mine. I can't answer.

"Well?" He awaits my answer.

"I-I-I got tr-tripped." God, I sound like a blubbering fool.

"More like _I _did." He glares at me and stands up, brushing off his jeans. He doesn't offer to help me up, just watches me on the floor.

"I said I was sorry." My tone turns angry. I'm surprised at myself.

His eyes and tone turn a little concerned. "Hey, are you okay? You're bleeding."

I realize that I have moved my hand that's covering my bleeding chin. "Yeah, I'm fine. Happens all the time." My face turns hard.

"You should go to the nurse or something." He advises me after an awkward moment.

"And have a bandage on my face? No way." I can hear all the name calling now. I finish gathering my stuff and slowly stand up, wincing at the throbbing place near my rib cage. He should be on the football team with that kind of kick.

"Did I do that?" He gestures towards my chin.

I start blushing. "Uh, no. That happened when I…tripped."

It would be to embarrassing to admit that Victoria tripped me. I hope he doesn't notice my slip from earlier.

"You must have had a hard fall." He says.

I nod, feeling my blush go full body. _Please stop blushing. _

He hesitates, leaning from one foot to the other. "Sorry…but you should still go to the nurse."

"Okay. I'll think about it."

He turns and walks away, probably to go to his next class.

Once he rounds the corner, I start hyperventilating and run to the bathroom. When I get there, I check out my chin. The scratch is actually those annoying small dots that make it look like one big bloody mess. I make a face, and then regret it when it stings. I get out a paper towel, wet it, and place it against my cut.

I am watching myself in the mirror. At that moment, I believe I look absolutely hideous. Dark circles, blotchy red spots, my hair slightly wet – undoubtedly from sweat – a wet paper napkin that is dripping onto my blue pullover. My ponytail makes my face look taught; you can see my bones.

Tears prick my eyes.

He saw me like this.

At my worst.

_Control, Bella. Control. _

Shut up! Tears fall down my face, slowly. Snot stuffs up my nose.

I look at my paper towel. There are dots of blood that the water is making bigger. I throw this one away and get out a dry one. I place it against the cuts; they hardly show up. I check them out in the mirror. They have indeed stopped bleeding a bit.

This makes me feel a bit better. I throw the towel away and head into a stall.

This is the first time I've cut class in a while, so I decide to make the most of it. I close the toilet seat and try and scoot comfortably on top of it. I cross my legs and get out my book from my book bag.

I try and ignore the notebook that is practically calling me. I open the thick fantasy book and pick up where I left off. I slowly fall into the realm of the impossible. The notebook leaves me alone, knowing that I'm ignoring it.

I'm just getting to the climax when the bell rings. I groan softly, disappointed. You can't skip more than two classes in a row without getting caught quickly. It'll take almost a day to catch up with you if you just skip one class.

I stand up and stretch, bones creaking and muscles sore.

I feel loads better, impossible as it may sound. I put my book back unwillingly. I go back out to the mirrors. I wash my face of my tears and smile tentatively at my reflection. I sigh and throw the paper towel away.

The bleeding has stopped. I go to fourth period.

--~*~--

It is lunch time, and I haven't seen him. This makes me a bit disappointed but relieved. Disappointed because I want to see him again. Relieved because I don't want to be disappointed if he doesn't say anything to me or acknowledges me.

I wait in the hallway where I tripped for a minute before deciding it's useless. I sigh and climb the stairs to the library.

It is silent except for the click-clacking of Mrs. Barnes, the librarian, as she types on her computer. I head over to my usual spot, telling myself not to hope that he's there, that maybe he'll talk to me and we become friends…

And he's not there.

See? I told you he wouldn't be there, and yet you hoped.

_He _did _sit there before. Why not again? _

Probably because the Hags have got there claws into him and won't let go.

_Well, a girl can dream, can't she? _

I shake my head at my thoughts and sit in the comfortable chair. I pull up my legs against my chest and get out the book from earlier. I had been waiting for the past hour to get back.

I easily get sucked in again. So sucked in that I don't notice that loud throat clearing until a chair gets pulled back. Loudly.

I jump and look around.

_Why so paranoid, Bella? _

My eyes finally land on the green ones staring right at me.

_Merry Christmas, Cinderella. I guess dreams really _do _come true. _

* * *

**On my profile, you can see a picture of what I imagine Bella to look like with short hair.  
(It's Kristen Stewart, just so you know.)**


	6. Fantasy Ain't Just For Geeks

--~*~--  
**Chapter Six: Fantasy Ain't Just for Geeks**

My breath leaves me in a huff, leaving me feeling as if my stomach dropped to the floor. I can't say anything.

"Mind if I join you?" He asks as he gets out a brown paper bag with food.

I stare at him. I'm simply too shocked that he would willingly sit with me.

"Hello? Anyone in there?" He begins to frown.

I come back to with a fierce blush. "Uh…uh…no. It's fine." I nervously push back a strand of hair behind my ear. "Go ahead. Whatever."

He nods and sort-of smiles. He sits down and dumps his food out on the table.

I swallow back the extra saliva that has suddenly filled my mouth. I look at him a moment more before going back to my book. I try and concentrate on my book, while my ever-present voice of reason screams at me.

_You wanted to talk to him! Well, here's your chance! He's _here _and _alone with you. _This is the golden opportunity that's likely to never come again! Talk, you idiot, talk! Say something! _

But if I say something to him, I'll probably scare him away, I think to her as I try and read the next line.

_Isabella Marie Swan, if you do not say something I swear to God – _

He clears his throat, as if he's going to say something. I will myself to look up from my book.

_Look up look up look up look up! _

"I see you don't have a bandage." He comments.

I finally glance up and blush. "Yeah…no."

He smirks. I bet my face is just…just hideous right now. I pull down my hair to cover part of my face. A few more moments pass, and when he doesn't say anything else, I look back to my book.

_Idiot. Yeah…no? That's all you can come up with? Why not something cleverer like --_

"So what're you reading?" He says, interrupting my thoughts.

I look up at him, blushing even more furiously. I just _know _he's going to laugh at me. Everyone does. "Gwenhwyfar: The White Spirit. By Mercedes Lackey." I swallow again.

But he doesn't laugh. He merely quirks his eyebrow and says, "I prefer Marion Zimmer Bradley."

I look at him in disbelief. "Seriously? You read fantasy?"

He shrugs. "On occasion."

"No freaking way."

He laughs, and I bit my lip. Darn, that's twice in the past couple of days. I force myself to let go.

"Why's that so hard to believe?" He whispers as he takes a bit of his food.

I hesitate before answering, but he's waiting. "You…you just don't seem the type."

"Why?" He takes another bit of his sandwich.

I blush even harder, if that's even possible. I feel my pits begin to sweat, but thank god I'm wearing a pullover and not a regular shirt. "I don't know," is all I can come up with. I can't say what I'm really thinking: that someone as hot as him doesn't read fantasy. Only nerds do that.

Well, at least _I _think so.

He looks at me again. "Well, you shouldn't say things unless you can back them up."

My heart stutters at his scolding tone. "Sorry."

"What're you sorry for?"

"For…for insulting you?" I look at him questioningly.

"No, you didn't insult me."

He doesn't say anything else, so I look awkwardly away. I run a hand nervously through my hair and try and not look stupid. I put my book away and get out my notebook, because I don't know what else to do.

I start doodling. I notice my hand is shaking. I haven't really talked to someone for so long that wasn't Charlie or who was insulting me that I don't know what to do. I can't think of anything.

He abruptly puts all his stuff in his lunch bag and crumbles it up. He gets up and throws it in a nearby trash can. I sigh and wait for him to leave.

But he sits back down, surprising me.

"You don't talk much." He says it as a fact.

"Does this… surprise you?"

"Yeah. I mean, I only came here to escape everyone else who was talking my ears off." He shudders and then looks at me apologetically. I don't know why, but then he explains. "But now I'm up here and talking _your _ears off."

"I don't mind." I say, blushing. How could I _not _mind?

He gives me a half smile and says out of the blue, "Hey, I'm sorry about yelling at you earlier."

I give him a confused look.

He sighs. "You know? When I tripped over you?"

"Oh, yeah. Whatever. I'm used to it." I say before I can think about it. I wish I could clap my hands over my mouth without looking like an idiot.

His eyebrows pull together. "What do you mean 'you're used to it'?"

It seems he hasn't heard. He hasn't heard _anything. _I am so relieved by this fact that my whole body relaxes.

Well, if nobody's told him yet, I certainly don't want him to know. He'll be the first person _not _to know.

He clears his throat. "Daydreaming again?"

"Oh, sorry. That happens a lot." _You sound like an idiot. _"Not the daydreaming." _Good, good. _"I mean, I trip. A lot. I'm such a klutz!" I laugh breathlessly and bonk my head with my hand.

_Sorry. That's where you screwed up._

He gives me a strange look, and I can't blame him.

"Well, I'm still sorry…"

"It's fine."

He seems to be ignoring me. "I was just angry because these girls won't stop following me around. They just came around the corner and held me up and I was late to class..."

I laugh, and before I can stop myself I say, "That sounds like the Hags."

"The Hags?" He asks quizzically.

I try and cough a lot to cover up my blunder. "'Scuse me."

I'm _such _an idiot.

He's looking at me worriedly. "Do you need some water or something?"

"Fine. Just have a cough."

He gives me a disbelieving look. "Okay…"

He trails off into an awkward silence. I start to doodle again, occasionally coughing to back up my lie.

"So what do you mean by 'the Hags'? Is that what everyone calls them or…" He trails off and looks curiously at me.

"Is it just me, you mean?" _Bella, if you don't want to bring up what you know you don't want to bring up you will change the subject right now. Because you are definitely heading in that direction. _

He nods.

But then the bell rings.

I jump and he does as well.

Saved by the bell. Never a more apt clichéd expression then right at that moment.

"I guess I'll see you later," I say before _he _can say anything else. Then I grab all my stuff and run away.

Yeah, I'm a real idiot.

--~*~--

I'm berating myself all the way to fifth period. How could I be so stupid? I'm such a fracking _idiot. _I was having a fracking conversation with Edward Cullen. Something that I had been hoping for since he got here.

And then I just up and _run away? _

--~*~--

When I get to my truck, I look for him. Of course, I don't see him. I wait a few more minutes…he doesn't show.

Maybe he's being held up by the Hags.

The thought makes me smile as Old Bess chugs out of the parking lot.

--~*~--

It is lunch of the next day.

I wait all period, eagerly waiting for him to arrive. He doesn't show.

Maybe he somehow subconsciously got my letters. And it freaked him out.

Maybe he heard.

But Edward should know what happened wasn't _my fault _at all. It was…his fault.

Or maybe I just scared him off.

--~*~--

After school, I go to the grocery store and pick up a nice leather bound notebook. I also buy some rather nice pens to go with the nice leather bound notebook. I ignore the fact that I've gone computerized with my letters.

I mull it over though. At the end of each week I can type up all my letters.

I will call them _The Notes and Letters of the Ever Cynical Swan Princess to Prince Chaumont of Chicago but Recently of Forks. _

But I'll call them the letters for short.

--~*~--

_Dear Edward Cullen, _

_It has been a couple days (two) since last we talked. And I have been wondering a couple of things: _

_Did I scare you off? Or did I, in fact, repulse you? _

_Have you heard what happened? Maybe you have. I know how Victoria likes to embellish it and make it her own. But she really doesn't know what happened. At least, that I know of. _

_And last, but not least: _

_Are we ever going to talk again? _

_Signed sincerely,  
__The Ever Cynical Swan Princess_

* * *

As always, tell me what you think. (:  
Oh, and you can see what I think Bella looks like in this story on my profile. (Just in case you don't remember.)


	7. Ugly Notes in Trash Cans

--~*~--  
**Chapter Seven: Ugly Notes in Trash Cans**

I'm lying in my bed naked. Again. I can't seem to stop myself from doing so. It's become an obsession. I have to get that freedom that I crave. I can't believe I haven't thought of doing this earlier.

I bet if people found out about this, it would cause a scandal. The police chief's daughter lies in her bed naked. And we all thought we knew her.

I really hope that I leave this god forsaken town soon. It's so…_ugh _here. Just clouds, clouds, and more clouds. And some rain mixed in there as well.

I will admit that I have had some nice times here.

Like when Edward Cullen talked to me.

But I will not think about him. I will not think about him especially when I am naked. I will not think about the way he's made my skin bruise. I will not think about the way he likes fantasy novels like me. I will not think…

Okay, I'm thinking about him.

So sue me. It's not like there's anything _else _to do except stare at the ceiling buck naked. See? This is how bored of life I am. How I'm sick of the same day after day name callings and trippings and all that other crap. How I'm tired of going through the same day to day routines that one someone new comes along it messes everything up.

In an absolutely delicious way, of course.

So I admit it. I admit I may have a teensy weensy little itty bitty insignificant crush on Edward Cullen. Crush being the defining word because he fell all over me in the hallway. He literally _crushed me. _

Alright, so it's a lame joke. But still.

Girls crush on guys for way less.

Never mind the fact that he's been here for only a week, and that he's probably heard about _it. _

But I will not think about _it_. I will not think about _it_ especially when I am naked. I will not think about _it_ when I am not thinking about Edward Cullen as well.

Mostly because I do not want those two to go hand in hand.

Though I probably shouldn't get my hopes up at all, in any case. I mean, he's bound to here about it sometime, and then he'll think I'm a slutty stalkerish freak and move on with his life, not aware that he has crushed my heart and soul.

But he's just so goddarned gorgeous _and _he willingly sat with me and talked with my blubbering fool self. How can anyone not like a person after that? Never mind the fact that he hasn't bothered talking to me again.

I sigh and flip over on my side. I trail my hand down my rib cage, right where his foot smashed me. I can feel my bones and the soreness of the bruise. It always has fascinated me what a bruise feels like. And how I can feel my bones through my skin. I go up and down and up and down my rib cage, until I finally let my hand go over my stomach. I push down lightly. I compare the skin on my hand to the skin on my stomach.

My hand is darker than the skin on my stomach, which isn't saying much.

I hold out my hand in front of me. I curl it and uncurl it. Curl and uncurl. What is it the force inside me that makes my fingers move? It can't just be my brain. It has to be something else. Something bigger.

I observe my fingers. They look so frail and boney. Frail.

That's an odd word…

--~*~--

I'm beginning to notice that Charlie sounds a lot like me when he's nervous.

"So, uh…Isabella. I've noticed you haven't b-been making dinner lately…and I was wondering…uh…whether you've given it up. I know sixteen year old girls…don't really like to cook…but I'm getting a little tired of pizza, Isabella…"

"Hey dad?" I ask.

He looks at me, finally.

"Call me Bella. Not Isabella."

He gets a surprised look on his face.

"Please. And then I'll start making you dinner again."

He smiles uncertainly. "Sure…Bella."

"Thank you." I whisper as I go into the kitchen.

Whatever. He's still a man-whore.

--~*~--

When I get to school the next day, I see the Hags are waiting for me at the front entrance. I take in a shuddering breath and shut my groaning truck off. I turn around in my seat, watching them through the back window of my truck. Lauren waves cheerily at me.

I moan and drop my head against my seat. Yes, they are definitely waiting for me. I slide down in my seat so that they can't see me through the window. It won't matter if I'm late; I've already served my detention for skipping class this week. I'll simply tell Mrs. Cope that my truck wouldn't start this morning…or something to that effect.

A sudden tapping on my window makes me jump. Have the Hags come over here? That would be a first.

I turn and look wearily, and I see Edward Cullen's green eyes looking at me.

I blush, completely embarrassed. I hold up my finger in the one-minute sign. I turn around and grab my back pack. While I'm turned away from him, I make a panicked face to no one. I calm myself and turn around get out.

But I'm too fast. When I open the door, I hit him in the side.

He grunts in surprise.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" I exclaim, my hands fluttering uselessly around him. I see out of the corner of my eye the Hags laughing hysterically. I blush harder.

"It's fine." He says, out of breath. He's leaning against the car parked next to me.

I bite my lip nervously, bringing my pinkie nail up to bite as well as I watch him recover himself. The Hags are watching, curious.

"Are you alright?" I finally say.

"I'm fine." He replies. He stands up and looks down at me.

I finally realize how tall he is when he looks at me that way.

We don't say anything, just watch each other.

"Want to come inside?" He asks finally.

I look over at the Hags, who are still waiting for me. They'll say something, and then he'll know. And then he'll never come and talk to me again. And it'll be even more embarrassing because I'll be right there and I won't be able to deny it.

I look back at him, wishing I could say yes, but knowing I can't. "Um, actually I have to do something out here first."

I think he can tell I'm lying, because he deliberately looks over at the Hags – who all wave eagerly at him – and then back at me. "What do you have to do? Can I help?"

He's so _sweet. _

"Oh, just…something. You can't help." I am such a bad liar.

He looks back over at the Hags. "Is it them?"

I shrug, a dead give away that that's exactly it. "No! Of course not. They're…harmless." I force a smile.

_Do you know how much of an idiot you sound like right now?_

SHUT UP. Now is not the time.

He narrows his eyes at me.

Gosh he's so gorgeous.

He scrutinizes me, and I hold my breath, until it gets to be too much and I just breathe through my nose. He looks back at the Hags and then back at me.

"Come on." He grabs my hand and shut my truck door.

Heat spreads through me immediately. My heart beats faster. "Wh-what are you doing?"

He smiles at me. "Helping you."

No, no, no. I don't care how good or rough his hand feels. He's going to find out and then it'll be all over.

"You don't…I mean…really…it's nothing…" He seems to be ignoring my anxious stuttering. My heart feels likes it's about to beat out of my chest. The warmth of his hand. My god…

We're passing the Hags now. My pits start to sweat, but they seem too shocked to say anything.

He acts as if nothing is out of the ordinary. "Morning ladies."

Their mouths drop at the same time. I have to stifle my laughter. He looks down at me and winks.

_Holy shiznit. _

But then we're inside the school. I can't help but look back at them through the door's window; they're whispering fiercely amongst each other.

"Oh my god. That is so perfect." My mouth turns up in a smile. I almost forget that he's there. "Did you _see _their faces…" I trail off, because he's just watching me. I take in a deep breath. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

I shake off his hand and feel for crumbs, even though I know I didn't eat anything this morning.

"Uh…nope. You're fine." He looks down at me. I can't keep my eyes on his face for long.

"Thanks, I guess." I start walking away. I don't want him to say good bye first.

But he catches up to me. "Wait. I'll walk you to your cubby."

Hearing him say the word cubby makes me smile. "Well, if you want too…" I shrug.

"Lead the way…" His face turns confused. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

I'm tempted to say that we met before at the restaurant a couple days ago, but I don't think he'll remember. "Bella. My name is Bella."

"Bella. Hmm." He seems to think it over. "Oh, you don't know my name either. I'm Ed-"

"Edward Cullen. I know." I blush.

"Of course." He sighs. "Small school, right?"

"Small world." I shoot back.

"Oh, please. Don't start with that." He laughs.

I look down the hallway, where my cubby is coming up fast. I hope there aren't any notes in there today. _Please, please, please… _

But of course, when we get down there, there are three notes. I sigh and hurry up ahead of him. I gather them up and crumple them.

"Hey, aren't you going to read those?"

Crap, he did notice. "Uh…no."

"Why not?"

I can feel my shoulders tense. I don't want him to read them. I throw them away in the nearby trash can. "They're…they're not important."

"Oh." He says.

"I guess I'll see you later…Edward?"

"Yeah, sure." He sounds distracted. I sigh. I knew it couldn't last. I turn around and start getting my things. I notice that there is new graffiti on my notebooks when I hear someone digging through the trash can.

"No! Don't read those!" I cry. I try and snatch the notes from him, but he holds them up too high for me to reach.

"Why not? You said they aren't important." He starts to unfold one of them.

I give up, sighing. I'm used to people not listening to me. I shuffle back to my cubby, numbing myself. But I can't stop myself from blushing in embarrassment at what he's probably reading right now.

_There goes my chance. _

I start putting my stuff in my back pack, waiting for the gasp of horror. Not at what they wrote, but at what he thinks I've done…

But I don't hear anything. Just the folding back of paper and hearing it slid down the plastic garbage bag.

After I finish putting my things in my back pack, I wait there for a second for some kind of reaction again. But I still don't hear anything. I start walking away, and I still don't hear anything.

I guess I won't, anymore.

I sigh and go to first period.

He doesn't try and stop me.

* * *

Tell me what you think -- in a review or PM! Good, bad, ugly?  
Thank you guys for your reviews so far! :) I really appreciate them.  
Check out my other story - Where the Wild Apples Grow!


	8. Sandwiches With a Hint of Blush

--~*~--  
**Chapter Eight: Sandwiches With a Hint of Blush**

"I hope you know what you're doing, skank." Victoria hisses at me as she heads to lunch. "You know what happened last time. And just remember: he'll never like you."

The other hags cackle as well, and I scrunch into myself as best I can.

I resist the urge to tell her that she's just jealous that Edward held my hand and not hers. But I don't. I know it'll get me nowhere.

I sigh and go over to the steps leading up to the second floor where the library is. Before taking my spot, I decide to look for some new books to read since I'm almost finished with the other one. I immediately go over to the L/M section, because that's where most of the good books are. I tuck my sleeves into my palms as I search the familiar shelves.

I hum in surprise when I find that there is a new book. I check out the summary, decide it looks good and head over to the hub to check it out. I smile at the librarian as she checks it out for me.

"We're about to get a whole new book load in," she whispers to me as she hands me back my book.

I smile. "What kind?"

"I think you mean _kinds_, dear girl. Nonfiction, romance, fantasy, adventure…all of them."

I raise an eyebrow. "Do you know when they're due in?"

She grins excitedly. "In a couple of weeks, I believe."

"Awesome." We high-five each other. I feel like a total nerd for high-fiving the librarian, but what else can I do? Me and Mrs. Brown are on the same level. It's seems to me that we're the only ones at this school who read.

My theory is quickly disproven by a voice saying, "Excuse me ladies. I would like to check out this book." I turn around and let out a huff.

Edward Cullen. He saw me just…crap.

He holds out the book in front of him; it's some type of boy book. I can't get a real good glimpse of the cover as he quickly hands it over to her.

She looks astonished as well. "Name, please?"

He smiles. "Edward. Cullen."

She nods and quickly checks it out for him. "It's due back February fourteenth."

"Thank you." He takes back the book and stuffs it in his backpack. "Hello, Bella."

"Hi." I squeak. I clear my throat loudly, trying to ignore the amused look on Mrs. Brown's face. "What're you doing here?"

"Checking out a book. I'm low on reading material."

"Oh." I shuffle my feet for a moment and start walking away, not knowing what else to do.

He follows me, surprising me again. "You need to stop doing that. It's rude."

"What's rude?" I ask anxiously. He's still speaking to me, even though what he read earlier was probably…harsh.

"Walking away when we're in the middle of a conversation." I glance back at him. His forehead is furrowed, as if he's confused.

"Sorry. It sounded like you stopped." I say, still looking back at him.

And because I'm still looking back at him, I can't see where I'm going, I trip over a bookshelf. I catch myself just in time. "Sorry. See? Such a total klutz." My face is radiating heat.

"Are you okay?" He asks as I sit down at my table.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I watch him take the seat across from me as well, just like yesterday. It's hard looking him right in the face, though I want too. "That kind of stuff…normal for me. You know?" I giggle, sounding like a total idiot.

He hmms and gets out his lunch bag.

I get out my book, because I feel as if I have to.

"You are aware that you aren't allowed to eat in here, correct?" I ask as he takes a bite of an apple.

He nods.

"Then why…?"

He swallows. "Those girls…what did you call them yesterday? Oh, yes. The Hags. They barely let me eat. They keep like…trying to steal my food. It's really annoying." He shakes his head.

"Trouble with girls?" I laugh.

It's really weird discussing Edward's girl troubles with him.

"Not just them." He wipes his mouth on his sleeve. "It's some of the guys too. Like this one guy…Mike?"

"I am aware of him."

He shudders theatrically. "He keeps talking about his 'conquests'. _In detail._" He gives me a pointed look.

I hum sympathetically.

"And it's not that…you know. I mind. I mean…it's just when I'm _eating._ I prefer not to hear about that sort of thing when I'm digesting my food." He shudders again and takes another bite of his apple.

I flush and rub my neck nervously. "I guess."

"But you seem to have a pretty good set up here." He looks around, inspecting.

I shrug, not knowing how to answer. I play nervously with the cover of my book.

He finishes his apple and starts in on his sandwich. "Hey, do you want some of my sandwich?"

I shake my head, even though my mouth is filled with saliva. It was so much easier to ignore the fact that it was lunch time when there was no food around.

"Did you already eat or something?" He asks, quirking his eyebrow.

I nod my head.

"Seriously? What'd you eat?" He puts his sandwich down on the plastic wrapper. He wipes his hands off of crumbs. He watches me intensely, his green eyes dissecting every movement of my face.

It's very unnerving.

I think fast. "Oh…you know…a cereal bar. And some juice."

"That's _it?_" He looks at me incredulously. He rips off half of his sandwich. "Here, take some of mine. I don't need it."

"No. It's your sandwich. You eat it. I already had my lunch." I lean back in my chair and pull my legs up. I reach for my book to start reading it, but I'm too slow. He takes it from me.

"You're really holding my book hostage?" My eyebrows are raised in astonishment at the book he's wagging, just out of my reach.

"Yes, I am, until you eat some of my sandwich." He looks determinedly at me, his eyes flashing.

I feel my face softening. "Why…why do you care so much? I mean, if I eat it or not? We only just met… a few days ago. And only talked a few times since then…Not to mention you read the notes…"

_Dolt! Why'd you have to bring up the notes?! _

His face is still firm. "I'm doing this for the good of mankind, so it doesn't matter if we only just met. And I didn't read the notes."

I let out a slow breath. He didn't read them. I feel so relieved. "Okay. I'll eat it."

He smiles widely, and it knocks some air out of me. He eagerly hands over the part he ripped off for me.

"My book?"

"Eat the sandwich first." He orders.

"Fine," I grumble. I take a bite…and almost moan. It tastes so _good. _I quickly take another bite, and before I know it, I eat the whole thing. He looks at me, pleased.

"I _knew _you were hungry." He says as he hands over my book.

"Oh, hush." I take back my book. "Who made that? That sandwich is delicious."

"Erm…my mother made it."

I watch in astonishment as his face slowly heats up.

He's _blushing. _

"Oh." I decide not to comment on the current color of his face. "Well, if there was a prize for sandwich making, this one would take first place."

"I'll be sure to tell her." He mumbles as he finishes his sandwich.

_Interesting. Very interesting indeed_, I think as I open my book.

--~*~--

I wave good-bye to Edward as I head to my next class. My stomach is pleasantly almost full, it brings up my mood. I feel much better than normal, and I wonder if it's the sandwich, or the fact that Edward sat with me again.

Definitely Edward.

--~*~--

When gym class ends – and I even have a smile on my face even though Victoria tripped me again – I go straight to the parking lot, hoping to see him again.

I do, but he's being held up by the Hag trio.

He waves at me though. I blush and wave back.

I see Victoria's face grow angry, but then stoic as she turns back to him.

It sort of scares me, so I climb quickly in Ol' Bessie and drive away.

--~*~--

Maybe I shouldn't have done that. Maybe I should've gone over and helped him, like he did with me this morning.

I wish I wasn't such a coward.

And I wish it wasn't Friday, so I won't have to wait two days to see him again.

* * *

Guys, I still can't figure out how to reply to reviews. Can anyone please help?  
I'm not ignoring y'all at all. I did it once or twice, I think, but I can't remember.  
I suck at technology.  
But please review! :)


	9. Conversation Ensues at the Thriftway

--~*~--  
**Chapter Nine: Conversation Ensues at the Thriftway**

Normally, I would love having a weekend to myself. I would revel in the freedom of not having to deal with the Hags. I would just laze around, stare at the ceiling and think about what I would do when I graduate in two years.

But this weekend is different. I've already done all my homework – even the dreaded essay on Romeo and Juliet. I have nothing else to do; Charlie's already left, citing the fact that he hasn't gone fishing in a while.

This reason is just plain ridiculous. Who would go fishing in the _rain?_ The drops on the water would scare the fish away. Not to mention he would get all soaking wet.

I wonder if he's gone on another tryst with Sue Clearwater. This idea is probably the most likely. I wonder how long his affair with Sue Clearwater has been going on. Maybe it's been going on since even before I moved here. I wonder what led him to do it.

I have got to stop wondering. The thoughts going through my head are making me nauseous.

I get out of my bed, where I have been staring at the ceiling for the past hour. I go down to the kitchen to eat something, or maybe drink some hot coco.

When I check the cabinet where it's supposed to be located, all I find is an empty box.

_Damn bastard drank my entire hot coco stash and didn't even bother throwing the box out. Ugh! _

I throw out the pitifully empty box and go upstairs and get dressed. I am definitely going to the store to buy some more, if they aren't already out. Doesn't Charlie realize by now that hot coco is something rare in this town? Ugh.

I throw on an old sweatshirt of mine as I head out the door. It's raining, which means I have to cover my head with my arms as I run to the truck, because my umbrella is still in there from yesterday.

I take a couple gulps of air to catch my breath. I pull my hair up in a ponytail as it is now messed up by the weather. I turn the key and she starts chugging away. I turn on the radio, trying to find a station that doesn't crackle. It ends on the classical station. I smile and pull out of the driveway.

My windshield wipers are slow, which means I have to drive more carefully than usual. The rain is really coming down hard out there. I begin to question if I should even bother going, but I'm already halfway there, so I keep heading there.

Five minutes later, and I'm the parking lot.

I get out my umbrella, make sure my wallet is in my pocket, and turn off Old Bessie, who is now groaning painfully. The pitter-patter of rain drops on my roof echoes throughout the cabin. I open the door, hissing as the rain gets inside the car. I push the umbrella open and shut the door behind me.

I lock the door and head inside, grimacing at the large puddles I happen to step into.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea wearing sweat pants to the Thriftway.

I sigh happily when I get inside. The lightness of the store compared to the darkness outside is disorienting. I shake the umbrella out and grab a small red basket. I head over to aisle nine, where one box of coco awaits for the taking. I quickly grab it and stuff it in my basket, glaring at the empty aisle, daring someone to take it from me.

I smile and go over to the junk food aisle. I think I have enough money to get a small bag of candy. I'm debating between getting the gummy bears which are $1.30 and gummy worms which are also $1.30 when I hear a familiar voice.

It's coming from the aisle over.

"No, you have to get _this _brand. It tastes much better than that other stuff. And maybe we should put the iceburg back and get the other lettuce." The familiar male voice says.

"Edward," a female voice complains. My suspicions are confirmed. I look around for some place to hide. I can't let him see me like this! I look hideous! Their voices are coming closer, and I know they're about to turn the corner. "I need the iceburg lettuce because the recipe –"

"Screw the recipe."

Gah! I frantically look down at the gummy bears, wondering what I should do. I can't take off running, because they'll catch me, but I can't just stand here either.

"Watch your language, young man…"

And there they are.

_Turn your back and walk away. Slowly. _

I decide to put both of them in my basket and just give the other one to the cashier.

But then he calls me.

"Hey! Bella!" I hear his footsteps coming closer.

I make a panicked face at the gummy bears.

They stare at me dispassionately.

_Just for that, I'm eating you. _

They don't care.

_Screw you guys. You're no help at all. _

"Bella?" His voice starts to take on a confused tone when I don't answer.

I turn around, slowly. "Hi," I say shyly.

"Hey. What're you doing here?" When he smiles, one side of his mouth turns higher than the other.

_I'm done for. _"Oh…you know…just…getting stuff. It _is_ a grocery store." I smile nervously.

"Yeah. I'm just here with my mom."

I look behind him, and sure enough, there's his mother. When she sees me looking, she waves hello. I wave quickly at her and look back at Edward. "So…what're you guys shopping for?"

_What a stupid question. _

"Eh, my mom's making this dinner. Our first dinner in our house. They finally got the stove going…" He looks down at me. "But I'm sure you don't care."

I shrug. "It's fine."

"So…what's your…" he leans over to look in my basket, and I can smell him. I slowly breathe it in. Like graham crackers; cinnamon. Yummy. "…coco and junk food for? Seems like an odd combination."

"Oh…you know…for lazing around…" I shrug again.

"Cool." He starts to say something else, but his mother interrupts.

"Edward? Could you come here? I don't know which candy to choose for desert…" She trails off, looking at him.

"I have to go." He rolls his eyes, as if pained.

"Okay. Bye." I quickly turn around and walk away.

And as I do, I hear Mrs. Cullen say, "So are you friends with Isabella Swan?"

"_You _know her?"

"We just met her a few days ago…at the restaurant."

"I don't remember…"

And that's when I can't hear anymore, because I'm too far away.

--~*~--

At home, I put on a movie. I haven't done so for a while, so I put on one of my favorites: _Pirates of the Caribbean. _I make coco as the previews start and indulge in some gummies as I wait for it to warm up.

When that's done, I press play on the menu and watch as the movie starts up. I chew on some gummies.

When Elizabeth Swann – it still weirds me out that she has the same last name as me – and her family get attacked by the evil pirates, my mind starts to drift elsewhere. I shift my body so that I'm laying long ways across the couch.

I slowly let the gummy worm – I ended up buying both of them – drift into my mouth. Then another and another.

Why would Edward talk to me in such a public venue? And outside of school, no less?

Could he…dare I say it…like my company?

Well, if he does, it's about time someone did. Nobody else has bothered to get to know me since the Incident last year…actually I don't think they bothered to get to know me in the first place. Otherwise, I would probably have had friends who stuck by me.

Maybe I could've fought harder for myself. But I didn't, and now here I am, all alone on a Saturday afternoon eating gummy worms.

I slowly put the gummy bag on the coffee table and push it away. I feel too sick to eat anymore.

--~*~--

"Hi Isa…Bella. I'm back." Charlie says as he closes the door behind him. "Gosh it's dark in here." The lights flick on.

I groan and my neck cricks as I sit up. I had been asleep for the past…four hours.

"Hello, Charlie." I look over at him. "Catch any fish?"

His eyes are bright and cheery and his cheeks are flushed. "Nope. I think it was the rain…"

He definitely met with her, then. I feel my face harden. "Oh, that's too bad. I was thinking about making something with fish."

His face grows confused at my angry tone. "Well, I guess not." He looks at the wrappers on the coffee table. "Did you go to the store?"

I nod my head curtly.

"What'd you get?"

"This and I replenished my stock of hot coco."

His face looks guilty. "Yeah, sorry about that Is-Bella."

I glare at him.

"What? It's just hot chocolate."

"I bought the last box."

"That's good, right?" His voice is obviously mystified about why I'm getting so upset over it.

But he doesn't know that I know.

"No. It's not good at all." I stand up and stomp up the stairs. "And don't drink any more of my hot chocolate!" I yell.

I head to my room.

I can faintly hear him say, "Teenage girls…"

--~*~--

I come down fifteen minutes later to make dinner. I heat up some spaghetti. I can hear the T.V. on as I cook. It makes me bang dishes together to show how displeased I am.

Dinner is a quiet, tense affair. I finish up before he does, wash all the dishes and go upstairs.

He can wash his own damn plates.

--~*~--

Sunday is when Charlie stays home. I stay up in my room most of the day, reading the book I got from the library, to avoid him. I eat some of the left over gummies for lunch. They're completely gone by one thirty. At three o'clock is when I finish the new book.

I sigh and get out my notebook.

_Dear Edward, _

_So, I saw you at the grocery store. You talked with me there. At lunch on Friday, you talked with me there as well. You said you didn't read the note, and I believe you. But I wonder what will happen when you find out. I bet you think that that's what's going to happen to you as well. _

_But it's not __true__. You won't know the whole story. _

_And you probably won't, either. Because you won't bother to know. _

_I wonder why I even bother with you. You're just going to leave me anyways. _

_Signed sincerely,  
__The Ever Cynical Swan Princess_

* * *

**Sorry for the slow update! I'm working on future chapters. :) **

**Check out my new story Pretentious Contentment & Loving Incivilty, a TW/AU. It's co-written with eternally knight. **

**(Who WAS called Vampire Domination, the lovely author of The Matchmaker. While you're at it, go check that out as well.) :D**


	10. Food Fiestas

--~*~--  
**Chapter Ten: Food Fiestas**

I'm awake one second before my alarm rings. I push it off and run over to my closet to pick something out.

I'm not usually so eager to go to school.

I'm not usually so eager to go to school especially on a _Monday. _

But maybe Edward's waiting for me, and I wouldn't want _that_. I'll admit, I think as I get dressed, I'm probably being a bit optimistic to think that he's waitingfor _me. _It's more like I'm excited to ravish him with my eyes. Of course, the worry that he'll ditch me is still there, but it's lessened over the night.

I head downstairs and eat a cereal bar and chug down some milk from the carton. I put it back in the fridge and head outside. I have remembered to wear a jacket with a hood on it.

Old Bessie slowly takes me to school. I push harder on the gas pedal, ignoring the protesting groan from the engine. I realize I've been biting my lip when I'm three-fourths of the way there. I sigh and unlock my teeth from my lip. I've really got to stop doing that.

When I get to school – about fifteen minutes before we're supposed to be on campus – I see that his car is not there. Even though hoping that he _would _be there is highly unrealistic, it stills crushes me. I turn off the engine and settle back in my seat to wait. I get out the book I checked out Friday even though I've already finished it. I flip through it, rereading some of the more interesting parts.

I frequently check the parking lot and the clock as I wait. After the tenth time I look up and nothing has changed, I sigh and put my book back.

So I sit and lean my head against the large steering wheel, waiting.

I finally see some cars arrive, and I eagerly check to see if each one is the silver one I'm searching for. I slump and lean against my seat when it becomes apparent that none of them are him.

But I do see one of the Hags, Lauren, getting out of her car. I make a face at her when she is turned away, though I'm grimacing at my cowardice.

I start to feel disgusted with myself. I climb out of the car and practically run inside school. Thankfully, the hag doesn't see me. I should be glad that I made it in without the hags getting all over my case, but instead, I feel disappointed that Edward Cullen wasn't with me.

I'm so pathetic.

The hallways are empty of students as I walk towards my cubby. I check for any signs of notes when I don't see any. I start to smile – a real smile. Not one of those forced ones. No notes! That hasn't happened in forever.

I happily put my school books in my backpack and head over to English class.

It passes slowly. Studying R & J with these idiots, who can barely say the word 'neighborhood' without stumbling is painful. They are butchering Shakespeare.

Of course, when I get called on to read, nobody can hear me.

I don't see him between any of my classes, which I should know by now, but I can't suppress the vain hope that I might somehow see those gorgeous green eyes. Like…like green grass on a summer's day…

_Really? That's pathetic. _

But is it so pathetic when I see that he's sitting at our table first at lunch time and I smile so widely I think that I'll break my face in half?

No. I don't think so.

I try and compose myself before rounding the corner. But I can't help but watch him from between the book shelves.

He's sitting uncomfortably in his seat, checking around himself every few seconds. He fiddles with his lunch bag, ripping it nervously.

He's waiting for me.

I bite my lip again, trying not to squeal from happiness. That the prince would risk social suicide with the lowly peasant, while he could be hanging out with the nobles in the court, delights me. He's choosing me over _them. _

Of course, with the Hags involved, I should be the better choice.

I take one last deep breath before I round the bookshelf.

He smiles at me widely, while I blush hotly. He kicks my seat out with his foot. And I playfully roll my eyes at him.

"Eager, are we?" I ask as I sit down.

_Did you seriously just say that? _

But he laughs. "Sorry. I was just waiting for you so that I could eat my food. I'm starving." He starts to take out his food.

"You were waiting for me…so that you could eat?" My eyebrows pull together in confusion. "You could've just started eating without me."

He shakes his head. "Nope. It's not polite."

I laugh quietly. "And why is that?"

He smirks, obviously waiting for this opening. "I…My mom made you a lunch as well."

I'm touched. Mostly because he talked about me with his mother, which _must _mean he thinks about me. And because he made me a sandwich. Or his mom did.

"Really? She didn't have to do that."

He smiles and shrugs at me. "She likes to cook."

I think back to when I saw Edward and his mom at the Thriftway. It seemed more like _he _had an integral part trying to cook something. But maybe he didn't like the particular recipe his mom used…

"Where'd you go?" Edward asks, startling me. He's staring at me quizzically.

"Oh, nowhere." I half-smile and glance down at the sandwich he put out on the table. "Is this one for me?"

He nods, pushing it closer to me.

"I don't think I can eat all of it." I say, though I'm practically drooling.

"Whatever. Just eat something."

I sigh, and pick it up. I suddenly wonder if he'll think if I'd be a pig if I just stuffed it in my mouth and swallow it without chewing it. But I carefully unwrap the plastic and rip a little piece off and start chewing…

I moan loudly and blush at the pleased smile on his face. I swallow. "This is delicious. What is it?"

"Wheat bread, tomato slices, ham and turkey, cheese, with a hint of mustard." He lists without hesitation.

I stare at him, raising my eyebrows.

His cheeks turn a light pink. "I watched her make it."

I nod slowly and rip another small piece off. "How nice."

We chew our sandwiches in silence for a while.

"Have you finished your book?" He asks.

I flush and nod.

"That was fast."

I swallow. "I guess I'm a fast reader…" I smile, gauging his reaction. Everyone else called me 'nerd' or 'geek' when they learned that I read quickly. I had been told to get a life more times than I could count.

"I wish I could do that." He says, sighing down at his food. "It takes me weeks to finish a five-hundred page book."

I smirk. "It only takes me a couple of days. But that's if it's interesting."

He smirks back. I swallow. I wonder what he's got up his sleeve…

"And what books interest you?"

"Didn't we already go through this?" I quirk my eyebrows, thinking back to last week's conversation.

"No, you told me that you liked fantasy, and I said I did as well. But you didn't say anything else." He punctuated his statements with gestures with his sandwich. "Now, tell me."

His eyes bore into mine. I duck my head. "I guess…I like romance." I mumble. But I quickly add, "You know, with a lot of action. I mean, adventure."

He nods. "Girl books."

I scoff, trying to ignore the burning on my face. "Those aren't girl books."

"Well, yeah. They are. Guys like to read manly stuff. About…you know…" He looks around the shelves for inspiration. "…monster trucks. And…cheese."

"Cheese?"

"Precisely. With our manly wheat loaf bread."

"Hmmm…" I say, nodding sarcastically. "Because that makes a lot of sense."

"It _does_—"

The bell suddenly rings, cutting him off. We look at each other, confused at how fast the time has gone by. But we start gathering our stuff up anyway. Abruptly, I feel as if a wall has suddenly fallen between us.

It seems like my time with Edward is over…

For now.

--~*~--

_Dear Edward, _

_What is it about you? I don't even know you. _

_Signed sincerely,  
__The Ever Cynical Swan Princess_


End file.
